


The Admiral

by bella8876



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek needs a mattress, M/M, Post Season/Series 02, Pre-Slash, Stiles is distracting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:23:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella8876/pseuds/bella8876
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cause this is Derek's life now.  Standing in the middle of the fifth mattress shop of the day, getting a lecture on memory foam versus pillow top, while Stiles re-enacts the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally on the showroom floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Admiral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bellakitse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellakitse/gifts).



> This is for Stef, who sends me random texts to write her Sterek. This one just said - "Stiles. Derek. Mattress shopping." Un-beta's cause I'm too impatient to wait so all mistakes are mine.

Derek still wasn’t exactly sure how Stiles managed to talk him into this. Derek wasn’t ever really sure how Stiles talked him into anything. But there he was none the less, in the fifth mattress shop of the day. And who knew Beacon Hills even had five mattress shops, were mattresses really that big a business?

The salesman was in the middle of explaining the benefits of pillow top versus memory foam to Derek when the most obscene moan echoed through the sales floor cutting him off mid word.

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a frustrated sigh. "Excuse me," he said to the salesman and walked to the back where the moans were getting louder and somehow more obscene.

Derek stared down at where Stiles was on his stomach, sprawled wantonly across a king size mattress. His face was smooshed into the pillow top, his ass perched enticing in the air. He let out another spine tingling moan, his body melting further into the mattress, and Derek groaned this time, low in his throat.

"Stiles," Derek called but the boy didn't even move, just let out a satisfied hum. "Stiles!" Derek snapped this time and Stiles lifted his head lazily.

"Derek," Stiles practically purred and Derek had to close his eyes against the mental image that tone evoked. "Oh my God," he slid further onto the mattress, stretching out. "This feels amazing."

"Ah I see you've found The Admiral," the sales clerk said walking over to them.

Stiles exhaled, "You have to buy this one.”

“I don’t—“ Derek started but his voice cut off completely when slender fingers circled his wrist and pulled. Derek was caught so off guard by the feel of Stiles’s fingertips brushing against his pulse that he fell forward, half of his body landing on top of Stiles, the other half sinking into the plush soft mattress below him. 

“Stiles,” Derek hissed, shifting a bit, trying to get up but the grip Stiles still had on his wrist tightened, attempting to hold him in place. 

“Would you just,” Stiles opened one eye, glaring at Derek then proceeded to roll the both of them until they were lying on their sides facing each other. “There,” Stiles said satisfied, closing his eyes again. 

Derek rolled onto his back and laid there, staring at the ceiling of the showroom, his whole body stiff and on edge. “Would you relax? It’s a mattress not a bed of nails.” Stiles mumbled.

Derek huffed, took a deep breath, and forced his body to relax, his tired muscles sagging one by one as he let the memory foam take his weight. Stiles still had a barely there grip on Derek’s wrist, his thumb making lazy sweeps across Derek’s pulse point and a small satisfied hum tumbled out of Derek’s mouth before he could stop it. Stiles answered with one of his own and Derek turned to look at him.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep here,” Derek warned, knowing from firsthand experience that Stiles had the ability to sleep anywhere at any time. 

“Not asleep,” Stiles said, his voice thick and lazy, betraying the words that were coming out of his mouth. His eyes were half lidded and Derek swallowed, unable to stop the images rushing into his head. Falling asleep next to Stiles who had a soft satisfied smile on his face. Waking up next to Stiles, his hair sticking up in all directions, deep creases in his cheek from the folds of the pillow case. Stiles flopped over onto his back, letting out another obscene moan and suddenly Derek was hit with another image, a far less PG image, Stiles, on his back under Derek, biting his lip to keep from screaming, arching his neck, hands fisted in the sheets--

“Besides, they want you to sample the merchandise Derek,” Stiles offered, pulling Derek out of his thoughts. “They’re not expecting you to drop $3,000.00 on a mattress without testing out the goods first.” Stiles snorted and Derek shot up, looking down at him. He was quite proud of himself that he managed to ignore the idea of ‘testing out the goods’ with Stiles and focused on the ridiculous price. 

“$3,000.00?” Derek asked incredulously. “For a mattress?” 

“For The Admiral,” Stiles corrected him, opening his eyes fully. 

“Actually it’s $3,500.00,” The salesman said and Derek jerked his head quickly to the side, having completely forgotten the other man was standing right there. “Marked down from $4,500. President’s Day sale. It’s quite the deal.” 

“It’s still $3,500.00. For a mattress,” Derek said, aware that his voice had risen to dangerously squeaky levels. 

Stiles grunted and propped himself up on his elbows to look Derek in the eye. “Dude, the average person spends a third of their life sleeping. That’s basically half.” 

“You have no concept of how fractions work do you?” Derek asked. 

“A third Derek,” Stiles repeated, ignoring the dig. “And yes I realize that it’s sacrilege to compare the great Derek Hale to the average person but still that’s a lot of hours you’re going to spend on this mattress. And that doesn’t take into account other bed related activities.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shot up and Stiles smiled. “Ok perv, I meant things like watching movies or surfing the internet, or well for you reading a book cause you’re weird, but sure, let’s go there. Sex. You will, I assume, at some point in your life, based on your ridiculously handsome five o’clock shadow and your,” Stiles let go of Derek’s wrist and waved his hand in Derek’s general direction, “You know, abs and stuff, be engaging in acts of a sexual nature in your bed.” Derek was staring now, openly, unable to process the words coming out of Stiles’s mouth. 

“I mean sure, you could be an ‘up against the wall’ type of guy,” Stiles tilted his head and swallowed hard. “I could totally see that,” He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing as if he’d forgotten his train of thought. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked cautiously.

“What? Right, sorry the point is, no self respecting woman is dropping her panties for you with the mattress you have now. If that smelly lump in the corner of your room can actually be called a mattress.” Derek raised his eyebrows and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Ok fine, for you, maybe. But still, be chivalrous dude. There are like rusted springs poking out of that thing. You could give some poor girl tetanus. On her ass. Do you want to make her explain to a doctor how she got tetanus on her ass?” 

“I think that would be pretty self explanatory,” Derek offered amused now. “And why are you just assuming I’ll be bringing a woman back?” 

“Fine, whatever, guy or girl, no one wants to get tetanus on their ass.” Stiles pressed on. “Plus it’s super scratchy, which can be hell on the knees. Think of their knees Derek.” 

“Their knees?” Derek asked as an image of Stiles on his hands and knees waiting for Derek popped into his head. 

“Or your knees. Whatever. Far be it from me to make assumptions about positions,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse and suddenly in Derek’s mind the positions were reversed and Derek was the one on all fours, Stiles crawling up the bed behind him. 

The salesman coughed a little uncomfortably and Stiles and Derek both turned to him this time, having once again forgotten he was there. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He said his face beet red and it took everything in Derek not to answer with a blush of his own. “To discuss the mattress—buying the mattress,” he corrected himself quickly before turning to give them privacy. 

“No,” Derek said, a bit too forcibly and the salesman froze, one foot in the air ready to beat a hasty retreat. “It’s fine. I’ll take it.” 

“Very good,” the salesman nodded. “I’ll get you started at the register. Just come up when you’re finished—ready.” He corrected himself again. “Come up when you’re ready.” 

“You’re seriously buying it?” Stiles asked after the man had all but run from them. 

Derek shrugged. “You made a good argument.” 

“Awesome.” Stiles said happily, sliding back down onto the mattress. “This is totally my spot.” 

“Are you planning on spending enough time in my bed that you need to claim an actual spot?” Derek teased and the tips of Stiles’s ears turned an enticing shade of red. 

“Dude. If you add times I can’t go home because the latest supernatural showdown of the week leaves me with way too many cuts and bruises to logically blame on lacrosse, to the fact that you refuse to let me remove Hale family books from your loft, plus how so far every single pack movie night has ended with all of us passing out wherever we’re sitting. Then multiply that by the fact that you only have enough furniture to seat like five, divided by the nine people in the pack, and you get one Stiles who has found himself waking up way to many times with a crick in his neck on the most uncomfortable and frankly freezing hardwood floors known to man. Seriously, would it kill you to buy an area rug?” 

“No really, how did you pass math?” Derek asked, smiling softly at him now. 

“Finstock,” Stiles said as if that explained everything-which with Finstock it kind of did. “Also at some point all those puppy piles that you like to pretend don’t happen are going to migrate from the living room to your bedroom as soon as word gets out about how unbelievably comfortable this thing this.” Stiles sunk even more into the mattress and sighed happily. “So yeah, I’m claiming my spot now. This area,” Stiles motioned to what was basically the whole right side of the bed. “Is my spot.” 

“I normally sleep on the right,” Derek said and Stiles groaned, making a move to get up but Derek reached out and grabbed his wrist this time, holding him in place. “It’s fine. I can share,” Derek shrugged and walked off toward the front of the store, leaving a gaping Stiles behind him.


End file.
